


Hush

by Komatsu



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Other, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Adrien Agreste has gone missing, the apparent victim of an Akuma attack, but hiding in an ever-growing black shadow. Ladybug sets out to find him, with help from an unlikely and alarming source: Hawkmoth himself.





	1. Hush

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an idea to do something... a little different, which will be seen in other chapters. I promise my next ML fic will be more light-hearted.
> 
> Please note that Adrien (and the others) have been aged up to 18 in this.

This. Wasn't. Happening.

The terror, the anger, the shame - it wasn't the first time he had felt such a spike in those emotions. It was unfortunately common in a city the size of Paris. He had long learned to ignore those emotions, though the gentleman inside himself had, at first, wanted to do something about it. But they were so strong that he knew any akuma created from such a victim would be too volatile, and he had made too many mistakes in the past as it was.

This victim though - he recognized the swirl of thoughts and emotions inside of him. Anger of his own bubbled up into his head, blurring his vision. Before he could stop himself, one of his akumas, darkened with rage, was flying out of the window. It wouldn't be fast enough.

Hawkmoth let his transformation drop and pulled his phone out of his inner pocket.

"Nathalie," Gabriel Agreste spat into the phone, clenching his fist tightly around it. "Find Adrien, _now_."

Or the akuma would find him first.

* * *

Several hours before, Adrien Agreste came bounding down the stairs. It was a clear Saturday morning, and he'd been itching to get out and hang out with Nino all week. Between his regular appointments, a massive homework load, and more Akumas than usual, he'd been too busy to do much but exchange text messages. But today! Today, he and Nino had made plans with Marinette and Alya to go to one of the outdoor malls for some shopping. They'd all been looking forward to it. With their school years about to come to an end, time spent together had been a rarity.

He stopped short at the sight of his father and Nathalie standing near the entrance to Gabriel's study, both adults turning to him. His stomach sank.

"Ah, there you are," Gabriel said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm glad you're already awake."

Inwardly, Adrien sighed. That could mean only one thing.

"Do I have a photoshoot?" he asked, walking closer.

Gabriel nodded. "Yes. An old… acquaintance is shooting on site in Paris, and one of his models has called out. He's asked if he can borrow you for the day to help out."

Years of practice kept Adrien from groaning aloud, or grimacing, or showing anything other than vague disappointment.  "I had plans with my friends, Father…" He knew it was futile, but he had to try.

Gabriel was already turning toward Natalie. "Don't be ridiculous. It won't take all day, just until the early afternoon. You'll have plenty of time later. Nathalie, arrange for his car ride to the set."

Natalie nodded. "Of course. Adrien, why don't you call Nino and explain the change of plans? I'm sure your father will agree to your staying out until the evening since you won't get be able to get to Les Quatre-Temps until late. Isn't that right, sir?"

Gabriel made a noncommittal noise as he swept back into his study. It wasn't a no.

Adrien felt hope stir in him. His morning might be gone, but staying out until the evening would help make up for it. "Thank you, Nathalie," he replied, giving her a weak smile, and headed into the dining hall for a light breakfast.

The set itself was at the edge of a business district, right next to a park. The company had rented out one of the buildings, which is where Adrien was directed to once the Gorilla had driven him to the location. The bodyguard followed him and the two were soon escorted into a lobby that was the very definition of chaos. Clothing was strewn about, some of it half-finished and other pieces still resting on the sewing machines. Various pieces of photography equipment were scattered about, and Adrien could see an assortment of props, ladders, and cloth for backgrounds. A young lady with red-hair saw him and pushed him into the hallway beyond the room, asking Gorilla to stay behind.

"You'll need to be fitted, it seems" the photographer, a Monsieur Julien Larousse, said as he looked Adrien over in yet another room. This one was smaller, and it seemed that it was only the clothes that he'd be wearing for the shoot. "You're of the same width, but Arthur is several centimeters taller… nothing we can't work with, but we'll have to work quickly all the same." He snapped his fingers at one of his tailors, who came rushing over with measuring tape.

"If I may ask, sir, what happened to him?" Adrien asked, lifting one arm so that the woman could measure down the length. He was used to this, and used to the feeling of Plagg squirming under his shirt so that he wouldn't be felt by anyone's hands as they measured.

The man snorted. "Food poisoning. Can you believe it? Ah, but I'm glad that you were available. One doesn't like to owe Gabriel Agreste a favor, but we need to finish some of the shots today, because the partner for the shoot has to fly out to America tomorrow."

"Father you said you were an acquaintance. How is that?" Adrien was curious. His father had many colleagues in the fashion industry, people he'd gone to school with, and others. It was rare to hear him describe another person as anything even resembly friendly.

Larousse was observing him again, measuring his waistband with his eyes even as the tailor wrapped her tape around it. "Yes… we worked together when we first got started. It's been many years since I've had an opportunity to photograph his designs, but he and I worked together to get both our names out there." The man nodded. "Perhaps next time I come to Paris, we will all three cooperate."

Adrien had more questions, but now he was being directed to try on the clothes that they'd already laid out, to see what modifications would have to be made. The photographer left him with the junior designers in charge of the modification, leaving to check on the set itself.

"You're Adrien Agreste, right?" a raven-haired woman asked him. She was marking down his measurements on the inside of a blue jacket that she held. "I've seen you around so many billboards in Paris!"

"That's right," Adrien replied sheepishly. It was always awkward when someone recognized him, but at least people in the industry weren't as awestruck as others. "And you are…"

"Oh, I'm Isabella," she replied, giggling. "I'm just here to modify some of the outfits. You know how it goes - there's always last minute adjustments to be made, even when one of the model doesn't come down with food poisoning. It's so nice to meet you!"

She had an American accent, Adrien realized. It was nice sounding. "It's nice to meet you too. Have you worked with Monsieur Larousse before? What's he like?"

Isabella hummed to herself as she matched her thread to the coat so that the modifications would be less visible. "This is my first shoot with him, but I've liked it so far. He's very good at his work." She paused. "He's gay, did you know that?"

Adrien didn't know that, and he didn't think he cared. He shrugged, and accepted a white undershirt from another assistant. "What's that got to do with anything?"

The raven-haired woman flushed. "Nothing, it's… nothing. I just wonder why is it that most men in this industry are gay? There's nothing for us girls!" she joked.

Adrien had heard that particular joke before. He gave her a grin, hoping to defuse the situation by playing along, even if he didn't particularly care for it. "Because they like playing with clothes?"

"Is that why?" she replied, cocking her head. "I knew it!"

"Not all men in this industry are gay," a third voice chimed in, and Adrien turned to see another model, a man that stood nearly a head taller than himself. The newcomer had brunette hair that was carefully styled to appear perpetually windswept, his sharp cheekbones made sharper by the contour and highlight applied to his face. "Speak for yourself."

"I like girls," Adrien protested, flushing. This was a terrible first impression to make on someone.

The man said nothing to him, but looked Isabella over, his expression stormy. "Liliana says to finish the modifications as soon as you can. She asked me to take him to makeup while you work on that."

Isabella's mouth was drawn in a thin, straight line. "That's fine. I have his measurements. But send him back when you're done so we can do the final touch-ups."

That was weird.

Adrien glanced back at her even as the man beckoned him away, and he walked down a long, straight hallway.

"So um… what's your name?" he asked.

"Gregori," the man replied, sharply. "You should keep an eye out here. Don't be too friendly with everyone."

Before Adrien could ask what that meant, Gregori had stopped and was rapping on a door. "I have the Agreste boy for makeup!" he called through the door, then turned back to Adrien. "I mean it. You watch yourself."

The door opened, and Adrien was ushered inside by the two makeup artists, who immediately went to work on his face, praising his features and coloration. He glanced toward the door just as Gregori shut it, a scowl on the older man's face.

An hour later, he stood outside in the garden. Behind him, the natural beauty of the Parisian landscape would serve as a backdrop, highlighting the stylish clothes he wore. His hair slicked back with gel, his face chiseled with contour, he looked older than usual, to fit in with the models shooting alongside him.

There was a woman named Rachelle, an American like Isabella, who seemed to be his main partner for the shoot. The story was that they, alongside Gregori and a woman named Eliza, were young adults venturing out into the world on their own for the first time. Eliza, whose hair was dark and thick and curly, was Gregori's fairer counterpoint, but a good deal kinder, waving at him as they waited for the photographer to set up the all the lights. He waved back, but stayed near Rachelle; she could have been his sister, with wavy blonde hair and green eyes that sparkled as she looked him over.

"You look so cute!" the woman laughed, patting his shoulder. She was somewhat taller than he. "Like a little boy dressing in his father's clothing. You remind me of my little cousin."

"Rachelle," Monsieur Larousse called from behind the camera as they finished setting up. "You are supposed to be his girlfriend in this shoot. Act like it."

Adrien grinned at her when she laughed, though his grin died as he caught sight of Gregori standing behind her. The man still frowned, his eyes sweeping over Adrien. What had he done? Had the comment from earlier been that bad?

"Ready when you are," Rachelle said, smiling at Adrien.

The shoot itself went off without a hitch. The clothing, despite the last minute modifications, fit him like a dream, and he found it easy to pose with Rachelle against the props set out for them. Here was a couple's photo, Rachelle leaning against him as he held her with Paris at their back, the two of them looking thoughtfully into the distance. He'd had to stand on an apple box for extra height, which would be cropped out of the finished product. Other couple's photos followed; a scene in a park, a shot inside of a car with Adrien at the wheel, another one with the two of them in front of a green screen where an apartment would be edited in.

Then there were photos of the four of them solo, showing off the various products of the line they modeled for, changing in the makeshift stalls that had been set up on the lawn. Adrien was best at these, moving naturally into as many different poses as he could while the camera flashed, staring stoically at the photographer. It felt weird not to smile, but he'd been told repeatedly this was a more mature shoot than he was used to. His character was a mature adult, worried for the future.

Then, last of all, came the group photos.

"Adrien, move over a little bit," Larousse called, gesturing with his hand. Careful of the pants that he wore, the boy obeyed, inching closer to Gregori, his "best friend". They all waited for further direction as the man thought.

"Gregori, put your arm around Adrien's shoulder," Larousse decided. "Grasp his shoulder, like a one-armed hug!"

Gregori did so, and Adrien tried not to grimace as the man's hand clutched his shoulder a little too tightly. "What gives?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth as Larousse asked Rachelle and Eliza to do the same, Rachelle leaning into Eliza to further push home the "friends" message.

"You shouldn't be here," Gregori replied under his breath. It was so quiet that Adrien wasn't sure he'd heard it. "I don't know what they're thinking, but you shouldn't be here."

He didn't _want_  to be here, but this was his job. He hadn't had a choice. His father hadn't let him decline it. Adrien frowned deeply, opening his mouth to snap back, when the first flash went off.

"Adrien, you should be smiling!" Larousse called. "Remember, you are with friends the day before your trip to Paris! Smile!"

It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but Adrien smiled winsomely for the camera, keeping his face frozen in the middle of a friendly laugh.

As soon as the group photos were done, Larousse waved Adrien back inside. "You are done for now, my boy. Go get changed."

Rachelle came with him; it seemed like Eliza and Gregori had other photos to take for a different magazine. As they walked inside, the woman draped on him, uncaring for the clothing that they wore. Now that their photos are over, it seemed she had no reason to keep them crisp.

"It was so nice to meet you, Adrien," she said as she steered him down the hallway to the dressing rooms. He waved to Gorilla as they passed him. "It's too bad that you couldn't be with us earlier this week! It would have been fun. You're much cuter than Arthur."

"You're going back to America, right?" Adrien asked, smiling at her praise. She'd taken a liking to him due to the resemblance between them, and he found that he didn't mind her physical closeness now, or between shoots. He liked being hugged, considering that they were rare nowadays.

"Yes," she replied in English, before switching back to French. "My agent accidentally double-booked me but we were able to get the American shoot pushed back so that the photographer could spend a birthday with their family. Must be nice."

"You don't see your family often?" he asked softly. He could sympathize with that.

Rachelle just sighed. "We're from a small town, and it's hard to see them. But that's what our smartphones and Skype are for, I suppose!"

They reached the dressing rooms, and she stopped outside the one designated for women. "I'm going to change and wait for Eliza. We're going out to eat after the shoot - do you want to come with us?"

Adrien shook his head. "I have plans with my friends after this," he admitted. "We're going to go shopping."

Rachelle pouted. "Let me give you my phone number, at least. Next time I'm in Paris you should show me around!"

He clutched the piece of paper with her number on it as he headed down the hallway to the men's dressing room, where his clothes were. He was so ready to change and head to the mall with Nino and the others. First though, he wantedd get the makeup off his face at least. He'd never hear the end of it otherwise, especially if Plagg saw him. He'd left his kwami inside the locker they'd given him, along with his clothes and phone. Hopefully he was still in there, and hadn't left to watch the shoot.

When he opened the door to the dressing room, he was surprised to see Isabella still inside it, the woman hunched over a pair of pants. "You're still here?" he asked.

She looked up at him, confused for a moment, before recognizing him. "Yes," she replied. "A couple of seams popped, and I'm fixing them before tomorrow."

That… made sense, though he wasn't sure why she was here and not in the lobby. "Oh, well… do you know where the makeup wipes are?" He would have preferred a shower, but makeup wipes would have to do for now.

The woman gestured toward a pile of boxes that lined the side of the room, next to the full-length mirrors. Adrien was glad to see that there was wipes, and micellar water along with some washcloths, and a utility sink nearby. He could wash his face with that, and try to get some of the gel out of his hair!

Turning the water on, Adrien splashed his face with it.

He did not hear Isabella leave her station and cross the room to him.

"Adrien," she said, and he paused in scrubbing at his face with the washcloth so that he could hear her better. "Ah, what are your plans today? Maybe you and I could - "

"I'm going to the mall with some friends," he replied, rubbing between his eyes. He always had difficulty with getting makeup out of there. "I'm sorry. I usually don't hang out with people from shoots." Unless his father made him. But for the most part, Gabriel understood his desire to keep his personal and work life separate.

"Why don't I go with you and get to know your friends? This is my first time in Paris and I was too busy to go anywhere, and - "

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking up from the sink. He grimaced and kept himself hovering over it; he hadn't thought to take off the designer clothes he wore before scrubbing his face down, and not he risked getting it wet. "I really don't hang out with people from work."

"Let me help you with that," Isabella said, noticing his predicament. "So you don't get everything wet."

That… was awkward, but Adrien had no choice if he wanted to retain the integrity of the clothes that he wore. Besides, Isabella was already tugging the jacket off his shoulders, and he allowed her to pull it down his arms. As she roughly folded it and set it aside, he set to work on unbuttoning the top.

"Do you mind if I have a few minutes?" he asked, patting his face dry with a new cloth. Being shirtless around other people was one thing, but he needed to get the pants off too. "I need to - hey!"

He stood there in shock as the woman reached underneath him and started to unbuckle his pants. Attempting to squirm out of the way, he found himself unable to as she pressed herself against him from behind, causing him to stagger into the sink. "Get off of me," he snapped, trying to elbow her. His arms caught in the shirt that he'd half pushed off..

"Come on, Adrien," she whined, her hands making quick work of the pants buckle. She'd helped to sew them together, after all. "Don't be such a spoilsport. It's my last day in Paris and I'm your biggest fan, I swear. I've always wanted to meet you!"

When he felt her hand caress the front of his pants, Adrien pushed back from the sink with all his strength, hoping to separate himself from the zealous woman. To his luck, the woman staggered back, and he spun around, only to find his legs tangling in the pants as they, loose from her earlier work, fell to his knees. He fell with them, sprawling noisily onto the floor. Shock spiraled through him.

Isabella recovered quickly. The older woman straddled him, holding tightly onto the removed shirt. "It'll be fine," she assured him as they struggled. "Stop fighting me! Just let me - I promise it'll be fine!"

"Get off me!" he yelled, but then she was pressing her hand over his mouth and he yelled louder, trying to bite her. Hopefully someone would hear - Gorilla, Rachelle, even Gregori if the shoot was over-

"I just want to - please, Adrien! I'm your biggest fan!" She was putting her weight over him now, and Adrien found that despite his strength, he couldn't push her off. His legs and arms were tangled in clothing, the stitches tight and strong so that they were tailored to him exactly. Panic was beginning to blank his mind. He'd never - this was -

Her arm was pushed against his mouth and nose now, and Adrien tried to push her off, his nails digging into her skin. She was back to touching the front of his drawers, a thin pair of white briefs; as close to skin tight as possible so that the pants looked impeccable. At her touch, firm and desperate, something hot skirted up his stomach and he suddenly felt sick. It felt…

He stopped resisting, too shaken to continue fighting her. When she realized he'd gone slack, she moved her arm off his face. He stared at her with eyes that were beginning to overflow with angry tears.

"It won't hurt," she told him, and she touched him again. Shame boiled in him as he felt something deep in him react to her touch. He didn't - he was sure that he didn't want this, but now it was all confusing. Too confusing. His head felt light. "Just - just calm down, Adrien and - ow!"

She curled in on herself, clutching her hand to her chest. Adrien caught a glimpse of something black flit away from her, only to come back around with a vengeance.

She screamed as she was bit again, lashing out with one arm. Adrien rolled over as she moved off him, using one hand to push himself off the ground while the other pulled up his pants. Isabella fought off the attacker that she couldn't see, but when she noticed him attempting to escape, she climbed to her feet, scurrying after him. In her haste, she kicked at the black speck that had attacked her, and it was kicked into a pile of bolts of fabric.

Adrien had just made it to the door when she once again pressed against him, shoving him into the wall. He lost his breath as his head banged against a low shelf, and his vision swam.

"You're hurting yourself," she whispered in his ear, her lips close and searingly hot. His tilted his head away, and through the pounding in it, he thought he could hear the door lock. "Just let me do this to you. I promise you'll like it." Her hands once again were rubbing against him, even as he tried to jerk away. When he scrambled for the door with his hand, she grabbed it. He yelped, and when he tried to escape her grasp, her fingers held tight - to his ring, pulling it easily from his hand as he yanked his arm away.

"Stop," he gasped, horrified. No, no... not even Chat Noir could save him now. 

"You stop," she countered. "If you just let me do this, it will be over soon." The ring clattered to the ground. He thought she kicked it away, but when he tried to look for it - his vision went black around the edges.

His head ached, throbbing painfully with any movement. Something wet and warm trickled down his temple, through his hair, and to his neck. He could barely stay standing. He could no longer fight.

He didn't know where Plagg had gone, but it didn't matter now - Isabella had shoved her hand down the front of his drawers and despite the sickness in his stomach, he couldn't stop his body from reacting to her touch. He was going to throw up. This wasn't happening.

Terror raced through him as his assailant managed to push his drawers off his hips and down toward his thighs; he was powerless. Shame was boiling in him, so strong, but not strong enough to stop the way he was hard to her touch as she stroked him, crooning poisonous words into his ears. Anger made his face hot and his stomach churn as he cursed the woman, his kwami, himself. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

The black butterfly slipped through the crack under the door and made contact with the pants piled around his ankles.

 _Hush_ , he heard a familiar voice call in his head. _Run_ , it urged him. _Hide. Fight._

"Yes, Hawkmoth," he whispered, and he let the darkness overtake him.


	2. Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A locked room mystery, a missing model, and an akuma who refuses to come out of hiding.

"Have you heard from Adrien yet?" Marinette asked Nino, leaning over the boy. He was fiddling with his phone, staring at it. They had decided to meet up at Marinette's house before going out, but had already run out of things to do. Not even Ultimate Mecha Strike III could be entertaining for hours, not with Marinette soundly beating them each and every time. And already, the sun was high in the sky, just starting to make its descent toward evening.

"No," he replied, frowning. "Even with the change, it's not like him to be this late. He would text me if the shoot ran over."

Alya waved his hand. "Why don't you call Nathalie? She'll know where he is."

"That's right," Marinette said, nodding. "He said it was a new line clothing, right? Whenever he's at a shoot that requires a change of clothes, he always leaves his phone behind."

"Girl, how do you know that? No, wait, I don't even want to know." 

Nino tuned them out as he scrolled through his contacts for Nathalie's number. He didn't call her often, but it was nice to have her number handy, just in case. Alya was right; the woman knew where Adrien was every moment of the day.

She didn't answer when he called. 

"Try again in a moment?" Alya suggested, leaning forward to look at his phone. Marinette was over her shoulder. "Maybe she was on the other line with his dad, or something."

"Yeah," Nino said.

-

Gabriel slammed the door to the car shut and strode purposefully over to the group of people gathered in the front lawn of the building, their voices low but frantic. Those in his path leapt out of the way as he made a beeline to Julien, his eyes trained on those surrounding the man. His old acquaintance was flustered, gesturing wildly at Nathalie and Gorilla. A young, blonde woman stood nearby him, tears in her eyes.

"What's happened? Where is my son?" he demanded. He already knew _where_  Adrien was, hiding away from whatever - whoever - had assaulted him, but he needed to know why and _who_. What had happened?

Julien shrunk back from his anger. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I sent him inside with Rachelle, and that's the last we've seen of him. He's just - gone!"

"You," he said, addressing the model now. "What did you see?"

"W-we went to the dressing rooms together," the model wailed, tapping a tissue against her nose. "But they're separate for men and women, and he left me at my room. Everything seemed fine! I had no idea anything happened until… until he came to the door, looking for Adrien." She pointed to Adrien's bodyguard standing nearby and looking imposing as always.

Gabriel looked at the older, larger man, who nodded. "Continue," he told her. "What else was there?"

Rachelle shook her head. "We walked to the dressing rooms. I wanted to change, so I stopped at mine, and he went forward to the men's, I assume. I - I don't know. I closed the door when he walked away. The next thing I know, this man was pounding at the door and yelling for him - when we got to the men's room, it was empty. I don't know where he went. I don't know." She let out a sob, her lips trembling. Another model with curly brown hair clasped her tightly on the shoulder.

"No one saw him leave," Larousse murmured. "But there is an emergency exit in the back of the building."

"We looked in all the rooms," Nathalie said, her face grave. "He isn't in any of them. Sir, - "

"Are there security cameras?" Gabriel asked, frowning. _He_ knew where Adrien was, but none of what they'd told him explained what had happened. _Someone_ had been with him,  _someone_ had caused him to grow so angry and upset.  Someone that Gabriel was going to _find_ , now.

Larousse nodded. "Yes, for the hallways. For obvious reasons, there were none in the dressing rooms themselves. We were waiting for the police before we looked at the feed. They're on their way."

"Show them to me now."

The security room was a temporary set-up set in some utility closet. Gabriel squeezed himself into it alongside Larousse and Nathalie and watched impatiently as the other man brought up the feed and rewinded it to just an hour beforehand. The Agreste bodyguard stood just outside the door.

He watched and waited as the feed played and - there, in black and white, he could see his son walking down the hall with the blonde model, Rachelle, the two of them laughing and talking. Then, she opened the door to the women's changing room and Adrien peeked inside, the two of the continuing to chat for a few moments before the boy continued on his way down the hall to another room.

Larousse switched to another camera. This one had a better view of the men's room door, and he could see Adrien open it. The boy paused in the doorway, addressing someone inside, then closed the door inside him as he entered.

"Was there anyone else in there?" Gabriel asked, frowning. Adrien had clearly noticed another person in the room, someone he wasn't expecting.

"There - there shouldn't have been," Larousse replied uncertainly, but he was already rewinding the video. Gabriel could see it whirl backwards in time, watching Adrien's movements as he reversed. "They're not allowed to take breaks near the clothes, and all the models and designers should have been outside." 

Gabriel said nothing, his eyes trained on the camera. It was moving so fast that he had to focus - "Wait, stop," he said, though futilely, because Larousse had seen the same movement he had. Someone approaching the room, slowly but surely, stopping to look over their shoulder. The woman was tall with black hair, her features blurry with her nervous movements captured on CCTV. Then, she stopped and looked straight up at the camera. Larousse paused the feed.

"Who is that?" Nathalie asked, leaning forward to get a better view. She had already taken out her phone to take a picture.

"I believe that is… Isabella, one of our assistant designers."

"Isabella?" Gabriel glanced over to where Nathalie was typing something on her phone. "Last name?"

"I - I'm not sure," Larousse confessed. "She is American, and this is my first time working with her."

And the last, Gabriel added privately, before turning to Nathalie. "Go question the others, and find out more about this woman. Then, make some calls. We need to know more about her."

Nathalie nodded, and left. He stayed behind with Larousse to be sure. Together, they watched the woman walk into the men's dressing room. She didn't leave, even as they fast forwarded the video. More than hour later, Adrien would approach the door, stop in the doorway to speak with her, and enter. Gabriel held his breath, counting, eyes trained on the clock at the bottom of the screen.

Less than five minutes after entering the room, Adrien would feel such a strong spike in negative emotion that Hawkmoth had latched onto it. His akuma would be sent out. On one of the other camera feeds, a small thumbnail in the corner of the screen, he could see movement as Adrien's bodyguard rushed up from the chair he was sitting in, his phone clenched in his hand. The man attempted to go into the hallway, only to be stopped by the receptionist. He pushed past her and began to open all the doors, which Gabriel realized were unmarked. They'd been borrowing the building temporarily, after all.

Larousse pulled up the video from the first camera, and they watched as the large man slammed the door open to the women's room and jumped back in shock. Though there was no audio in the video, it was obvious that he was asking whomever was aside - Rachelle - where Adrien was, particularly when the woman walked out of the room with a robe over her form and pointed down the hallway.

She even joined him as they rushed down to the door, where the man tried the door. It had been locked, and wouldn't budge no matter how he turned the doorknob, the two people calling for the boy through the wood. Rachelle turned to run for help even as the bodyguard stayed behind, pounding at the door with his fist before resorting to kicking at the lock. 

Gabriel already knew he wouldn't be fast enough. By the time the door bounced open, the room would be empty. His akuma, undetectable by cameras, had slipped under the door and found its target.

Adrien had gone into hiding.

He sank down into a chair as the feed continued, paying no mind to the way that his son's bodyguard entered the room, nor the way that a band of people were coming down the hallway, drawn by Rachelle's distraught, silent screams.

His akuma had founds its target, and when Hawkmoth had connected with Adrien's mind - the swirl of horrific emotions that were consuming his son, his first instinct had been to order the boy to hide. To remove himself from the situation. 

"Yes, Hawkmoth," Adrien had replied, his voice pained and desperate. He'd _wanted_  to hide. He'd wanted to disappear. And then he had. Hawkmoth had lost his connection with his akuma, and thought he'd tried for several minutes to re-establish it, was truly as if the boy had disappeared. Seeing it on the feed, realizing that Adrien had actually disappeared, he reminded himself just why choosing victims with such strong emotions was never a good idea. At the very least, he could no longer feel Adrien's pain. Now, he needed to find out if Adrien himself could still feel it.

After losing contact, his only option had been to appear on the scene itself. Nathalie had already arrived and called him to report what she knew had happened. He'd had to get one of the other staff drive him.

Larousse was turned to him now, clearly distressed. "I - I'm sorry, Gabriel. I have no idea - "

Gabriel held up a hand, cutting him off. "Save it," he said, tired and worn, above all, irritated. If he got into it now, he'd just snap. He had to think about his reputation. "You can apologize after we find him."

Nathalie returned now, her phone tight in her hand. "Her name is Isabella Carpenter, from New York. 22 years old. She's been with the company for about six months now; this was her first job in Paris, according to her boss. No one has seen her since before lunch."

A woman, a designer that Gabriel only vaguely recognized, had come with Nathalie, her own phone out. "I've tried to call her," she said nervously. "Her phone is going straight to voicemail."

Had the akuma taken her with him when he'd activated his powers, in his attempt to get revenge? Gabriel wondered, but he was unsure as to what the akuma's powers even _were_ , considering how Adrien had immediately hidden once prompted. He wanted to give his son the power to hide, to protect himself -  "We'll have to find them both," he decided. "Either way, I want answers."

The police came, collecting the camera feeds with them. Gabriel waited in Larousse's office as the entire building was searched from top to bottom. The men's room had windows, but they were so high up it was unlikely anyone could escape through them, he was told, but they still searched nonetheless for any fingerprints. The room itself was empty of all living things - they'd checked multiple times. 

Roger Raincomprix had finished taking statements from all who had been present. Now, he approached Gabriel, hesitant. Larousse hovered nearby, wringing his hands.

"There's no sign of him," the officer said, sounding regretful. "My men have looked all over. It's as though he - and the woman - just vanished."

They _had_  vanished. Hawkmoth had seen to that. Gabriel nodded. "I see."

Roger continued, hesitating further, as though scared of frightening the designer. "Do you think, sir, that - "

"It was likely an akuma," he replied, nodding. Roger had been one of his earlier victims, after all, and as a policeman had come across more than a few akuma related scenes. Of course Roger would come to that conclusion without having to be prompted. And there was no other way for two people to vanish into thin air. He certainly wasn't going to argue.

"An akuma?" Larousse cut in, horrified. "I had thought those were mere stories!"

Roger turned to the other man, shaking his head. "I assure you, Monsieur, they are not stories. Hawkmoth targets people with strong negative emotions and transforms them into villains. Many people in Paris have been targeted over the years. The majority of those have been teenagers, the same age as Adrien."

"That means that something - or someone - caused my son to feel so angry that he was targeted," Gabriel snapped, his voice rising.  "We know that this woman was in the room with him, and that she vanished alongside him.  My son. Now tell me, what do you suppose happened? Why would the two of them go missing in a locked room? My son is missing and -" All too late, he realized that he was divulging some of his own personal secrets, and bit the inside of his lip.

Larousse looked flabbergasted.

"Monsieur Agreste," Roger said, firmly. "I understand you are worried about your son, but we can't assume we know what happened until the akuma is located and cured. It could have been either one of them becoming an akuma, or perhaps an akuma coming through the window or walls. We'll need Ladybug and Chat Noir to take a look at the scene too. Only then will we know for sure."

Gabriel took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. It wouldn't do if they suspected him of knowing more than he should, and how much of his insistence that Adrien was the akuma would they consider appropriate for a protective father? He was sure there would already be questions regarding how Nathalie had alerted the bodyguard to search for the boy so quickly, and he had to take suspicion off himself. "You're right, I apologize. Do you have no leads at all?"

"Well, I have a statement from another model that might be of some interest to you," Roger said, flipping through his notebook. "Do you want to speak to him?"

"What's his name?" Gabriel asked impatiently. He doubted a statement from someone who wasn't even a witness would be helpful. No, if they didn't have any solid evidence, he wanted to get back to the mansion so that he could transform and attempt to locate Adrien again. Sometimes, after the immediate situation had de-escalated, his akumas would experience a drop in the intensity of their emotions and were easier to speak to. Now that it had been some time, perhaps he could reach Adrien that way. 

"Gregori Dumont," Roger replied. 

"Send me the statement and Nathalie will look over it later," Gabriel decided. He doubted anything that the man could say - whose name he only barely recognized - would be useful to him right now. "For now, I think I'm going to head home and call some of my contacts to join the investigation. Roger, are there news vehicles outside?"

The officer nodded. "Yes, sir. Do you need me to ask them to move?"

"No." He would arrange for Nathalie to release an official statement to the various newsways, but the sooner the news got out, the better. If he couldn't reach Hush and get him to deakumatize on his own, there were only two other people could fix this mess. "I'm leaving. Larousse, you have my number. Both of you, call me as soon as you hear anything."

Larousse nodded. Roger followed Gabriel out the door.

"Monsieur Agreste," the officer said, his voice low as they walked past rooms, all with the doors open. Gabriel could see an assortment of people through the doors, some crying, others talking loudly. "Do you really think..."

"I don't think," Gabriel replied, his voice bitter, but firm. "I know."

Nathalie and Adrien's bodyguard joined him when he left Roger at the door so that the officer could stay and talk to some of his men. The three of them walked in silence to where the car was parked. By now, the afternoon was coming to a close.

Nathalie had Adrien's belongings in her arms and placed them on her lap as she settled into the car. The police had already checked them for any potential fingerprints, and given them back. Gabriel reached over to take Adrien's phone. He didn't know the passcode, but he could see on the lock screen several missed calls and messages. 

"I'll call his friends later, after the statement is prepared," Nathalie informed him. "They may have information that will help us. Unless there's something else you know, _sir?_ " Her voice was icy as she spoke, her eyes cold.

Gabriel sighed, handing the phone back to her. "I know as much as you do," he said, his voice even. Deliberately calm. He wouldn't lose his temper now, not if he wanted to be composed when he tried to contact Adrien upon their return to the mansion. "An akuma transformed him."

"And _why_  would an akuma transform Adrien here, of all places?" she asked, frowning sharply.

Gabriel glanced toward his driver. The man had been kept from knowing about his "second job" so that he could guard Adrien better. Something that had failed in this case. No,  as tempting as it was, he couldn't hold it against the other man if he'd followed protocol of a company that Adrien had been working with. Otherwise, news may have gotten out about how difficult the Agrestes were to work for, or the possibility of sabotage by an Agreste employee. Now, with a potential lawsuit on their hands, their designs were the least of their worries. 

"Perhaps," he murmured, his voice low enough that she had to lean in. "Hawkmoth felt something so vile and sickening that he had no choice but to send out some way of Adrien to defend himself."

Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock. "Sir, are you saying…"

"It's no coincidence that there are two people missing," Gabriel said. "The akumas always set out to take revenge."

They passed the rest of the drive in silence.

-

Nathalie returned Nino's phone call an hour after sunset. He, Marinette, and Alya had relocated to a nearby cafe, eating dinner together as they waited for news. There was nothing else to do, not when they hadn't made plans for just the three of them. When he saw who the call was from, Nino nearly dropped his phone in his haste to answer it, knocking his fork aside.

"Hello?" he asked hurriedly, pressing it to his ear. "This is Nino."

Marinette and Alya slid out of their seats and huddled to his side, listening in. He turned up the volume as high as it would go.

"Nino," Nathalie said, sounding tired. "I'm sorry it took me so long to return your phone call. What can I do for you?"

Nino swallowed. "Adrien is - he didn't meet us today like we planned. Did one of his shoots run over? Do you know if he's on his way?"

There was a long, long pause. "Adrien has… gone missing," the woman finally said, voice heavy. Nino inhaled sharply. "He's been missing since this afternoon. We're putting out a report on the news shortly."

Alya was mouthing expletives, keeping her voice silent so has to not alert Nathalie to her eavesdropping, nor to startle the other patrons. Marinette clung to Nino, feeling as if the floor had come out from behind her.

"Nino?" Nathalie asked after another minute of silence. "Are you alright? Is there anyone with you?"

Nino managed to reply. "Marinette and Alya are here… we were all waiting for him," he explained slowly, turning his head to look at the girls. At the sight of his watery eyes, Marinette felt her own begin to burn.

"You should all go home," the woman told him, sounding sympathetic. "I'll call you as soon as we learn more." With that, she hung up.

Nino lowered his phone to the table.

"This isn't the first time he's gone missing," Alya reminded him, patting his shoulder. "Maybe once the news report comes up, he'll see it and come running back. It's got to be a misunderstanding." She was already pulling up her own phone to search the local articles.

"I'm going to go home," Marinette said, clutching her purse to her side. She could feel Tikki moving around it.  "I want to see if anything is broadcasting already. I'm sure that if they see it, my parents will be worried."

"Marinette, wait!" Alya called, but she couldn't stop Marinette from whirling around to leave, rushing out the door and leaving her two friends behind.

Alya turned back to Nino, who had picked up his phone and was texting Adrien. "I'm sure it's nothing," she tried to assure him. "Maybe he left to come meet up with us and got lost. You know how he is. There haven't been any reports of an akuma, after all."

Nino could only nod.

"Do you think it's an akuma?" Marinette asked Tikki once they were outside, steering clear of any crowds.

Her purse open, it was easy for the kwami to reply. "It could be, Marinette. Only… why weren't there any news of an attack? No one has said anything. Alya didn't know of anything either!"

That was true. Alya was usually one of the first to hear about an akuma attack, and though the girl had been glancing at her phone on and off throughout the day, she hadn't said a single word about the news, let alone try to get to the center of the action like she normally did.

"When we get home, we'll suit up and look for him," she decided. That, at least, she could do. Maybe she'd even stop by the Agreste mansion to speak to Nathalie in person. First though, she needed to make an appearance to her parents - if they saw the news about Adrien, the first thing they would do is look for her, unless they knew she was holed up in her room or out searching on foot.

When she got home, the shop was already closed for the evening Both her parents were in living room, watching the evening news. Marinette hovered in the door, eyeing the set.

"Maman, Papa," she started, and they turned to Marinette. The look in her eyes told she had been too late. "Is it true?"

"Wait one moment," her mother said, and she picked up the remote to rewind; her parents always recorded the news just in case they were busy closing up shop and missed it. Tom gestured Marinette to sit between them and she did so as the beginning of the news broadcast replayed.

Nadja Chamack sat at her desk, looking serious. "Good evening Paris, Nadja Chamack here. Our top story -  reports are coming in of a possible Akuma attack in the business district today. A visiting American designer went missing, along with Adrien Agreste, son of fashion designer Gabriel Agreste."

Marinette took a deep breath and focused on the details that were flashing across the screen. Time and location. Just a couple of hours before Adrien was supposed to meet them. Pictures of both of the missing were shown as well, along with physical description and clothing they'd last been seen in.

"Sources report that both people went missing inside the building. So far, there are no leads into the identity of the akuma or its powers. Some speculate that the akuma may in fact, be the young Agreste, though they do not know what triggered the transformation."

"Oh Adrien," Marinette breathed, lifting her hands to her face. 

"We have reached out to family of the missing American but the only response we have received is that the family is on their way to Paris. Gabriel Agreste, on the other hand, has issued a response through his assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur, and the head of the police."

The camera cut away to Nathalie standing in front of the Agreste mansion. Beside her stood Officer Raincomprix.

"It is as the rumors say. Today, at approximately 3 PM, Adrien was discovered missing on site at a photoshoot. The police and Mr. Agreste have determined, after viewing security footage, that he was last seen in the company of a woman named Isabella Carpenter. The room that the two of them were in had been locked until it was forcefully opened. Adrien's belongings were still inside, including his phone."

Roger spoke up beside her, looking nervous in front of the cameras, but grim. "We can't discount some sort of foul play. Their disappearance points to an Akuma attack, but the police so far, have been unable to discern where it came from or went. We have interviewed numerous eye-witnesses at the scene, but none saw any indication of an akuma, nor did anyone in the surrounding area. We ask that the public keep an eye out for anything unusual until either Adrien or Miss Carpenter are found."

"Do we know for sure an akuma has caused this?" a reporter asked from the crowd. "Isn't it possible that they left willingly?"

"My team and I have reviewed the security footage extensively. Miss Carpenter is seen entering the room. An hour later, Adrien enters it as well. The next person to approach the room was his bodyguard and another model, who find that it was locked. There was no evidence of anyone leaving the room, and further, we have determined the windows would be unreachable without a ladder, of which there was none in the room." Roger explained. "Given this evidence, it is likely that an akuma is the cause of their disappearance. We only just have to find out how."

"Has there been any word from Ladybug or Chat Noir?" someone else asked.

"None yet," the officer replied. "Given the very unusual nature of this akuma attack, we're not surprised they haven't been alerted. We're waiting for them to contact us."

"Any idea where they might have vanished to?"

"As we have said, signs point to a potential akuma attack," Nathalie replied. "M. Agreste will spare no expense in locating either Adrien or Miss Carpenter. We need answers from them both. However, he asks for privacy while the search is active, and that all leads be forwarded to the police department first. If there are any remaining questions, I will take them."

"Is there any connection between the missing? Have they met before?"

Nathalie replied as she pushed up her glasses. "As far as we can tell, this is their first encounter. The police have yet to determine if a transformation was triggered in either of them, or if they were the unfortunate victims of another akuma who found them in the room. With the latter in mind, we ask that all Parisians report missing persons to the police as soon as possible so we can look into a pattern."

The press conference continued, but Marinette drowned them out. Her nails were digging into her cheeks. Adrien, her poor Adrien. Was this a just an akuma attack or was something more sinister afoot? She'd never heard of an akuma attack lasting so long either, or one that was so…quiet for hours at a time. There hadn't been any reports of property damage or inanimate objects attacking people. How was she supposed to know to save him?!

This was a job for Ladybug. If this was an akuma attack, she and Chat Noir would be able to figure it out and get him home before the end of the day. 

"Maman," Marinette said, looking her worried mother in the face. Her father's arm was around her shoulder. "I'm going to go to bed."

"Marinette," Sabine started, her brows furrowing.

"I'm alright, really, " she insisted, forcing a smile. "But I think I'm going to get up extra early tomorrow to go to school and be with Nino and Alya, and I still have homework to finish."

"... Marinette, tomorrow's Sunday," her father reminded her.

"Then we'll go out looking for Adrien!" Marinette corrected hastily. She stood up, hands out. "I'm sure he'll turn up when we all go out looking for him! And Ladybug and Chat Noir will take care of any akuma issues, if there are any! Goodnight!"

"Marinette, wait!" Sabine called, but Marinette was already climbing up the stairs to her room. She had to get out there as soon as possible to examine the scene of the attack.

Once inside her room, she wasted no time in bunching her pillows under her blankets, just in case they checked on her later. 

"Do you think he was attacked by an akuma, Tikki?" Marinette asked as she folded over the blankets. "I knew Adrien wouldn't just ditch us! But oh, poor Adrien! We have to find him and bring him home as soon as possible."

"You heard the report," her kwami said. "If this is an akuma, it's very unusual. Be careful, Marinette. As long as it's hiding, we have no idea what its powers could be. You should call Chat Noir as soon as you can."

"I will," Marinette said, nodding. "Maybe he's already waiting for us? We should go now."

She glanced at her phone as she picked it up; multiple messages from Alya and Nino had come through, to no surprise. Along with....

A group chat?

She looked at it, her heart swelling with pride. The whole class was in there, even Chloe. Even as she tried to skim the messages, more came in. Love and encouragement, and reassurance that Ladybug and Chat Noir would find Adrien soon. Adrien was stronger than this. Everyone would be looking out for them and any akuma that had carried them off. The class could all meet up tomorrow in front of the mansion to help out too. Chloe promised her father would devote as much resources as possible. 

Seeing them come together so quickly for one of their own made her proud. She wouldn't let them down. 

Marinette added her own message to the chat. " _ We'll find him soon, everyone! Don't worry!"  _ Then, she tucked her phone back in her purse, made sure there was a couple of cookies for later just in case, and - 

"Tikki!" she called. "Spots on!"

It was Ladybug who soared into the night, heading straight for the business district.


End file.
